


Where Did You Come From? Where Did You Go?

by Grinagog



Series: The Art Defenestration as Applied to Arcane Artifacts [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter stars as Sir Not Appearing in this Work, Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinagog/pseuds/Grinagog
Summary: Harry Potter is late, and if there's one thing Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger can agree on absolutely without any argument whatsoever at any given point in time, it's that Harry being late is a very bad sign.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Series: The Art Defenestration as Applied to Arcane Artifacts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723522
Comments: 3
Kudos: 128





	Where Did You Come From? Where Did You Go?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LocalLeaderKaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalLeaderKaz/gifts).



> Sorry to everyone that this took so long! It should've been the second work up in this series but I write way slower than Kaz does so apologies for the wait! I hope you enjoy a look at what, exactly, Harry has left behind, which will be the bulk of my contributions to this series.

Hermione Granger pulled a sturdy copper pocket watch from the pocket of her robes impatiently. Across from her at the cafe table sat Ron Weasley. Hermione ignored the tap-tap-tapping of Ron's fingers dancing across the tabletop as she had been doing for the past, she glanced at her watch, 37 minutes.

"Where is he?" she muttered. She was beginning to get concerned. Harry wasn't a punctual person by nature, made more lackadaisical by the wizarding world which, on a whole, seemed to track the passing of time much less stringently than the muggles did. It was a fascinating aspect of the culture that Hermione hypothesized stemmed from the length of the average witch or wizard's lifespan being easily double that of a muggle. When you have so much more time, it seemed silly to count it every second of every day. Hermione glanced again at her watch, biting at her lip.

"He is a bit late, isn't he?" Ron said with a grimace. It was never good when Harry was late. Of course, it was never good when he was early either, especially lately.

Hermione idly flipped the face of her watch to the left revealing a second watch face with a silver arm and the words "Mortal Peril," "Something Foolish," and "Perfectly Fine" written in cramped calligraphy. The arm was pointing to "Perfectly FIne." Of course it was; Ron was sitting right in front of her and there was nothing dangerous hanging about in the middle of a well-lit, tidy little cafe in the middle of the day. Ron leaved over the tabletop to peer down at her watch as she flipped the watch face again revealing an identical watch face behind it. Only, this one tracked the well-being of Harry Potter and this one, well, it was pointing to "Something Foolish."

Ron and Hermione let out identical, though quiet, groans of frustration. Lately it seemed that the only thing Harry's watch face would indicate was "Something Foolish." Like the time he decided to reenact the climax of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King and toss a suspiciously familiar and alarmingly clingy stone into an active volcano. It had proved distressingly lava proof if the way Harry had mailed that same stone to her not 3 days later was any indication. She had tried trapping it beneath every ward she could conceive of and still it disappeared from her flat not fifteen minutes after she'd turned her attention away from it.

Ron and George had a similar experience with the wand that had resulted in a strange distortion of space in their flat above Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley so that everything appeared to be exactly 10 centimetres to the left of right handed people and 7 centimetres to the right of left handed people that had still not dissipated even 7 months later. Since then, Harry had become increasingly erratic and obsessive about the destruction of the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone. Even those friends of theirs that didn't know Harry so well as Ron and Hermione had commented on his increased flightiness and distance.

"It's those bloody hallows, Hermione," Ron said as he stood up. "Something's not right with them."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she shut her pocket watch and tucked it away. She followed him out of the cafe and back into Diagon Alley proper. "Yes, well," she said, "that should be obvious, but there's nothing to do but keep trying to destroy them."

"No luck then?" Ron asked as they stepped aside from the foot traffic of the alley. Hermione grit her teeth and shook her head shortly but didn't deign to continue the conversation before she disapparated away. That's a definite no then," Ron muttered before following her to appear just outside the ward of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

“I’ve looked everywhere!” Hermione loudly asserted once Ron had joined her. “And there’s no mention of the Deathly Hallows having ever been wielded by the same person before, not so much as a footnote in a children’s book!”

“So Harry’s done something strange again,” Ron consoled. “That’s nothing new. Point of fact, he’s been at the center of peculiar circumstances since he was a year old, not to mention our Hogwarts years. Like you said, we just have to —“

Ron was interrupted by a sudden cessation of all ambient sound and a heavy cloak of magic pressing down on the surrounding area emanating from the house in front of them. Ron and Hermione exchanged trepidatious looks and booked it for the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The pressure of the magic, dark and inevitable, was steadily.

“Harry!” Hermione cried out as they entered the house, no longer a dilapidated shell of its former glory.

“Mate, where are you!” Ron shouted. They stopped running in front of the stairs, unsure of which way to go, Harry unresponsive, and the magic threatening to make knees buckle.

“Kreacher!” Ron shouted then and the house-elf appeared before them, the whites of his eyes showing as he frantically searched for the source of the dark power that had descended on his home.

“Where’s Harry, Kreacher?” Hermione demanded briskly. “Where is he?” 

“Master Harry be in the potions lab, yes,” Kreacher said. He opened his mouth to continue talking but Hermione and Ron had already started running again, past the kitchen and into the very heart of the ominous aura of magic that had encompassed the house. They stumbled and fell a few times, catching their balance against the walls and yanking each other back to their feet each time. In no time at all, but still much too late, they made it to the room in the back of the house that Harry had decided to brew his potions in so he wouldn’t have to smell them throughout his house.

They threw open the door, ready to fight whatever it was that was threatening their friend only to catch the barest glimpse of him as he vanished in the heart of a crush of magic that knocked them back into the hall and caused the potion Harry had been brewing to explode. they hit the wall and slid to the floor with a few heartfelt groans.

“Bugger,” Ron said with great feeling.

“Quite,” Hermione said after a moment spent catching her breath.

“Don’t worry, Hermione,” Ron said determinedly as he stood up and started toward where Harry had been standing, his wand in hand. “We’ll get him back.”

Hermione stood as well and followed him in. 

“Of course we will,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'll be continuing Hermione and Ron's adventures before too long.


End file.
